SCRIMGEOUR, Rufus Edgar Leopold

[Deleted]

WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES I SEE YOU
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

RUFUS E. L. SCRIMGEOUR
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
IN MY DREAMS YOU WILL BE NEAR[/center][/b][/color]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I WON’T LET YOU DISAPPEAR
BUT I’M HERE ON MY OWN
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

FULL NAME:

NICKNAMES:

AGE:

BIRTHDATE:

GENDER:

BLOOD:

MEMBER GROUP:

YEAR

ORIENTATION:

AFFILATION:

WAND:

PETS:

CANON:

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I AM CRYING OUT FOR YOU
IN THE CENTER OF MY HEART
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

LIKES:

DISLIKES:

STRENGNTHS:

WEAKNESS:

BOGGART:

PATRONUS:

ERISED:

OVERALL PERSONALITY: The key thing to remember about Rufus Scrimgeour is he is not a bad man. Rather he’s a man forced into a impossible situation where every decision has a life hinging upon it and no matter the outcome, someone in the populace will not be happy with it. What governs his life most of all is how bound he is by his duty and moral compass, every decision is made with the aim of furthering wizarding society, removing the threats that plague it and winning this war as efficiently and quickly as possible. In this goal there is nothing, absolutely nothing he won’t do to see it happen, even if it means sacrifices to ensure the greater good. Severe, staunch and humourless Rufus takes radical and swift decisions to deliver brutal justice. Rufus is a ‘man of action’, the world doesn’t need politicians stood around talking and debating. Rufus has always been a man that gets things done and gets results.

Grumpy and cantankerous he has long separated himself from his emotions, refusing to allow them take part in the decision making process – at least in the public eye. Combined with his belief that honesty is the best policy, that ignorance of the law is never an excuse and somewhat unhealthy suspicion of absolutely everyone Rufus comes across as a creature with a heart of ice. He is certainly capable of making the hard decisions and taking what some may call callous actions. Though contrary to popular belief Rufus is not utterly dead on the inside and there are countless evenings when he lies awake justifying his decisions.

Much to the horror of the Ministry Rufus refuses to be a desk jockey, preferring to get his hands dirty as is needed. Instead of delegating he will often take a matter upon himself to ensure it’s done and will often ‘take the field’ himself as if he were still an auror. If there is anything to be said about the Minister, love or hate him unlike his predecessor – he has balls. Happy to announce to the people that hard decisions have to made and if they didn’t like it – well tough. Though he would argue which would you prefer a minister who sits cowering behind a desk sending young troops out to die, or the man who when battle comes will be stood in the front lines ready to charge with everyone else?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
YOU USED TO HEAR ME BREATHE
WHEN YOU TOUCHED ME DEEP
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

HAIR DESCRIPTION:

EYE DESCRIPTION:

HEIGHT/WEIGHT:

BODY TYPE:

DISTINGUISHING FEATURE:

SCARS/MARKS

FACE CLAIM

OVERALL DESCRIPTION: Rufus has always cast a extremely distinctive figure. A long mane of thick, wiry tawny hair falls just past his shoulders, streaks of white shooting from his crown and temples. Vibrant yellow tinted eyes peer from behind a pair of square black wire rimmed glasses with a sharp intelligence and worn suspicion, a gaze that has seen far to much of battle. His severe gaze is well renowned for seeming to be able to cut straight through to the very heart of a man and right out to the wall behind them, as if he were peering in at specimens in jars. Tall and wiry he once cast a foreboding shadow with square thick shoulders and lean muscles though age, stress and injury have thinned him. He walks with a permanent limp in his left leg due to an injury to his knee during the first war, as the damage was sustained by dark magic it will never heal. On the days where the pain is to much for even his pride to ignore he is forced to rely on a black wooden cane. Despite this limp Rufus still holds himself with a gnarly grace, a elegance to his steps of someone well acquainted with exactly how their body moves and it's limitations.

Rufus has a permanent sour, grumpy expression as if he’s always just been told some bad news (which now adays is usually the case). The Daily Prophet believe the last record of him smiling was his birthday at the age of 12 and scientists believe he may never have actually laughed. Though never overly meticulous Rufus keeps himself well presented. Since his ‘promotion’ he can usually be found in sharp dress suits hinting back to styles of the late eighteen hundreds, in dark blues, purples and pin stripes, something his advisors assure gives a nice feel of security and control.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
CAN YOU HEAR THE SOUNDS?
CAN YOU FEEL THE HEAT?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BIRTHPLACE:

RESIDENCE:

PARENTS:

[/s] Former Politician, Deceased: evading arrest
Mother: Natasha G. Scrimgeour nee’ Prewett, Pureblood, Mediwitch, Deceased: illness [/ul]
SIBLINGS:

IMPORTANT RELATIVES:

IMPORTANT PERSON:

OVERALL HISTORY: Contrary to popular belief there was once a time when Rufus Scrimgeour laughed and danced. Perhaps the best place to start is with the Scrimgeour of family. It’s been a well recorded fact that every member of the Scrimgeour family tread a line between the light and darkness. A Scrimgeour will never be neutral. They will either be at the forefront of what is deemed ‘good’ or if they go bad, they go well and truly bad. Rufus was brought up with the fairy tales of their family that centuries earlier their line had been cursed (or gifted) with a plague of darkness at the heart of everyone of it’s descendents, they would all be faced with decisions that would offer them to sink into the darkness or they could fight it, rebel against it and use it to propel themselves as champions of goodness. Whether the stories had any truth to them it’s certainly clear it was the case for Rufus and his father. From a early age it was clear in both young men that they were destined for great things, capable of acts of great goodness or severe sadistic cruelty. This was a balance they would both maintain during their schooling and both at the age of 16 would stumble haphazardly over the strings of fate.

For Arthur Scrimgeour his downfall was curiosity. The restricted section of Hogwarts library opening it’s secrets to the bright eyed academic who soon fell into the depths of the dark arts. Twenty years later the handsome liberal politician known for his warm smile, his slightly dirty jokes, his lovely family and friendliness was found in an old shack hidden in the muggle woodland with six bodies. One his many experiments into dark magic and the powers that could be gained going horribly, horribly wrong. The half deranged Arthur was killed by auror’s during his attempt to escape. Much of the matter was brushed under the carpet, it wouldn’t do for one of the Ministry’s leading lights to have fallen so grandly but there was only so much that could be kept hidden. The Scrimgeour family still stood in shame.

For Rufus, a quiet Gryffindor who kept mostly to his books his future was cemented. He nursed a hatred of dark magic and it’s users and swore to do anything within his power to see it put to an end. The once boisterous boy who danced at the school balls and still blushed whenever a girl spoke to him turned deafly serious and painfully cold. He finished Hogwarts with glowing grades, anyone else at the time would have been welcomed to the harsh training program of the Auror's with open arms. He was not welcomed. His father had not been forgotten. But once he muscled his way in it was impossible to deny he was made for the career. He passed through each year of intensive training from combat to reconnaissance with scores only rivalled by his then peer Alastor Moody and as of yet untouched by any of their successors.

Rufus soon earned himself the reputation of a hardass. He hunted down dark magic users and those who dared brake the Ministry’s laws with an intensity few rivalled. The fact his suspects were usually returned battered beyond belief usually went ignored, his methods might be somewhat questionable but he got results. He seemed to possess an uncanny ability to understand the way dark magic users thought (something most placed down to his father) and hunted with ruthless efficiency.

Despite what the Daily Prophet would have you believe Rufus has loved, though only once, he was even engaged. He had been stationed on a long term mission, sent in undercover to investigate a large group of wizarding terrorists who sought to bring the official act of secrecy that kept their world hidden from the muggles to an end. They seemed to believe the two could live together in harmony though their attempts to shatter the separation were growing increasing violent and attention grabbing and more worrying there was some substantial money behind the whole movement. There he met her. Theresa, beautiful and kind, just a girl wound up with things she couldn’t hope to understand the severity of. He’d loved her almost instantly. For the first time in his life the mission came second, his orders and duty forgotten. The affair was brief, though not brief enough to stop him throwing himself heart and soul into it, even proposing. The mission was forgotten replaced with desperately plotting how he could remove Theresa from her situation, how to free her and get her away without her being hunted by the group of criminals or the Ministry for her involvement.

His sudden lack of communication went mostly unnoticed by the Ministry but not by one of his colleagues. Alastor Moody knew full well that things were wrong. After months of digging he was able to confront his collegue with his information, of just who his innocent lover was. Theresa was not the sweet girl merely embroiled helplessly. She was the orchestrator of it all. Had known from the beginning he was a Ministry spy. He had been played like so many others before him. She swore desperately when he confronted her for the truth, as the trap closed in around her, that it had only started as a lie, that everything had changed, that they could run away together as he’d suggested only days before, could vanish and no-one would ever find them. He watched as her hands were tugged behind her back, as she was dragged kicking and screaming to Azkaban, her eyes pleading desperately with him. He gave the evidence at her trial, cementing her life sentence, both of them blissfully unaware of the fact she was pregnant.

Rufus closed his heart to the world. Promising himself that no-one would ever again be allowed to get close enough to hurt him in such a way, that no-one would ever again make him forget his duty. He would never allow himself to again sympathise to understand, to trust – it only resulted in treachery.

He threw himself into his career with a new renewed passion, filling a vast majority of the cells in Azkaban. Then came the first war. It became clear rather quickly that Rufus was a man made for war, an excellent combatant and strategist, he gave everything to the Ministry’s war effort and was almost killed on numerous occasions for it. His body is certainly a mismatch of scars to show for it. The loss of Frank and Alice, two auror’s he’d helped train was especially hard. He like a few others was certain after Voldemort’s defeat that he would be back. When it came to appointing a new Head of the Auror Office it was clear as day to everyone who would get the position. It had been all he had ever aspired to and his hard line of tough action and ruthless efficiency was perfectly suited for the job.

Rufus would have been more then content in this position till his dying day regardless of any jokes of his fascist regime from the Auror’s and regardless of any suspicions he held of his staff that seemed either to good or not good enough at their jobs to cover something or seemed to close to Dumbledore and the whispers of the ‘Order of the Phoenix.’ Regardless of Fudge’s stance on the matter, regardless of the fact he didn’t trust Dumbledore as far as the old coot could be thrown, the moment even a murmur of Voldemort’s return reached his ears as much as he was able he began the preparations for war. Enforced new stringent intensive training programs for his auror’s and set them harshly on the cases of anyone who had been suspected for dealings with the death eaters all those years previously.

When the truth was impossible for Fudge to deny any further it became clear his days as Minister were numbered and rightly so. He had not expected to be called forth for a meeting with the Wizengamot. He wasn’t a politician, he’d made it clear as day to every member of that court during his time as head of the Auror office that he had no time for or interest in their petty squabbling’s and political backstabbing. But the Wizengamot didn’t want a politician to lead the Ministry. After Fudge’s magnificent cock up it was clear they needed a war veteran, a warrior to lead them in battle. He wasn’t given the option to refuse. And really he never would have been able to if he had. His heart had always belonged to the Ministry and it’s furtherance. Though he soon surprised the court by showing he was certainly not their puppet, they wanted him to run the country then fine he’d damn well run it and end this war before it even began. However he’ll soon learn that things are never that simple. When one’s right at the top there are no simple answers.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I HAVE LEFT PARADISE AND
I DID NOT EVEN SAY GOODBYE
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

OOC NAME:

AGE:

GENDER:

EXPERIENCE:

OTHER CHARACTERS:

DID YOU READ THE RULES:

HOW DID YOU FIND US:

ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:

Please see Rodolphus or Esme

[/size]

THIS FORM WAS MADE BY MISTRESS SNAKEY OF CAUTION PLEASE DO NORT REMOVE THIS PART.
SONG LYRICS ARE HERE ON MY OWN BY SWEETBOX.

[/SIZE]

[SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE]

Accepted !

[/color][/font]

congratulations! you've been accepted at
HALLOWS&HORCRUXES claim your face claim! go
fill in the sign-ups and post a plot page,
get roleplaying!
and have some fun!
- ADMINS -
[/color][/font][/center]